


Date me

by Anger_and_Apathy



Category: yuri on ice
Genre: Demi Otabek, Fake Dating, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Otabek is a virgin, Pining, Yuri can't handle his feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anger_and_Apathy/pseuds/Anger_and_Apathy
Summary: “Date me.”Otabek looks up from tying his skates to where Yuri Plisetsky is standing with his hip cocked out and arms folded.“What?”Yuri flips his hair,“I’m hot,” he says, “You’re hot. Date me.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Date me.”

Otabek looks up from tying his skates to where Yuri Plisetsky is standing with his hip cocked out and arms folded.

“What?”

Yuri flips his hair,

“I’m hot,” he says, “You’re hot. Date me.”

“Uh,” says Otabek, mind still stuttering over the phrase you’re hot, “I’m sorry, did you just-”

Yuri plops down on the bench beside him.

“Look,” he says, “It’s only until the season’s over. You don’t even have to do anything. Just stand next to me during press conferences and- well, not smile. But frown less.”

Otabeck looks at him.

“Why?”

Yuri sighs, toying with the artfully shredded knees of his leggings.

“Victuri gets all the attention.”

“Victuri?”

“You know,” Yuri said, “Victor and Yuri. The other one. C’mon, please? We’ll just pretend until the end of the season. It’ll help with both of our images.”

Otobek’s heart sinks.

“Right,” he says, “Images.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So,” Otabek says. They’re back in their respective countries with their laptops balanced on their laps and evening light filtering through the windows, “What about you age?”

Yuri glares at him,

“16 is the age of consent in Russia,” he snaps, as if anticipating the question. Otabek winces.

“That’s not-” he begins weakly, “I mean that isn’t-”

Yuri cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“Fine,” he says, “Fine, fine.” Then he whips out his phone. Otabek watches his fingers fly across the keys.

“What are you doing?” he asks. Yuri slams the phone back onto his bed. It bounces a little on the rumpled sheets.

“Soothing your worry,” he says, “You can thank me later.”

Otabek’s own phone goes off on the bedside table. He picks it up and scrolls back through the notifications. Yuri has tagged him in a post. It says: He’s making me wait for it. Otabek gapes at the screen.

“Yuri,” he breathes, “You can’t just- this is like- people are going to think you’re talking about sex.”

Yuri shrugs one slim shoulder.

“What’s your point?”

Otabek gapes some more.

“We’re international figures,” he breathes, “We have reputations to- Christ, Yuri, my mom follows you!”

Yuri looks rather smug,

“Yeah,” he says, “She liked it.”

Otabek bites his lip, trying to choose his words carefully. He isn’t stupid. He knows there’s already speculation about them. He follows enough Yuri’s Angels blogs to know that they almost broke the internet with the Welcome To The Madness routine. They’ve never talked about it. He remembers how the crowd had roared and how Yuri had thrown out his arms and tipped his beautiful head to the ceiling. Now in his own bedroom, looking out at his friend, the memory feels very far away.

“Yuri,” he says slowly, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve never-”

Yuri flushes,

“I’m not a virgin!” He says hotly. Otabek feels his heart twist.

“Oh,” he says blankly. Yuri’s blush deepens.

“Yeah,” He says.

Otabek swallows,

“I am.”

Yuri stares at him.

“No,” he says, “That can’t be right, I thought for sure that you’d-” and then he very visibly stops himself from talking. A moment of silence passes between them. Otabek clears his throat.

“So,” he says, “How do we tell everyone?”

Yuri sighs,

“I think we just did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay team, what do you think?


	3. Chapter 3

Chris calls him when he’s getting out of practice. 

“So,” he says, by way of greeting, “You and Plisetsky, huh?”

Otabek switches the phone over to his other ear, wincing slightly at the pain in his shoulder. He had fallen twice during practice and he can’t tell what part of his body hurts most.

“Uh, yeah,” he says stiffly. Then, feeling like this is less than convincing says, “He’s really something.”

Chris laughs, slow and sexy down the phone line and Otabek shivers and pretends it’s the cold.

“Glad to hear you’re being a gentleman,” he says 

Otabek gingerly shoulders his sports bag.

“You saw that, did you?”

“Baby,” Chris purrs, “Everybody did.”

Otabek swallows, 

“Right,” he says.

There’s a careful pause.

“You know,” Chris says finally, “I’m available should you ever… desire anything.”

Otabek nearly drops his bag.

“What?” he chokes.

Chris chuckles, 

“You know,” he says pleasantly, “Just because you and Plisetsky are refraining from the sins of the flesh doesn’t mean you have to entirely.”

Otabek takes a moment to gape at his phone. The silence stretches between them. Finally he manages, 

“Okay.”

Chris laughs again.

“Well,” he says brightly, “The offer’s out there. I look forward to seeing you in the ice, Altin.” then he hangs up. 

Otabek stares at his phone. He opens a text message and types “I think Chris just propositioned me,” and sends it to Yuri before he has time to think about it. His phone rings just as he steps outside. Otabek leans up against his bike. 

“What,” Yuri says, “The fuck?” he sounds tired, like he’s just gotten off practice or woken up from a nap. Otabek stares up at the pale blue sky and wonders what time it is in Russia. 

“Hi Yuri,” he says, “How are you?”

Yuri growls, 

“Don’t you hi me,” he snaps, “What did he want?”

Otabek sighs, 

“Chris, like the rest of the world, is under the impression that we’re waiting until you’re 18 to have sex.”

Yuri huffs,

“What’s your point?”

Otabek palms at the back of his aching neck, 

“My point is that he just offered to keep me company in the meantime.”

Silence echoes down the phone line. When Yuri speaks it’s in the smallest voice Otabek has ever heard him use.

“What did you say?”

Otabek sighs, 

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, “he caught me completely off guard.”

There’s another pause, 

“Well,” Yuri says frostily, “Maybe you should consider it.”

Otabek frowns down at the asphalt. 

“Yuri,” he begins.

Yuri cuts him off, 

“Don’t hold back on my account,” he says, “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything.”

Otabek runs a hand back through his hair, 

“I’m not missing out on anything,” he grumbles, “God, I never should have told you that I’m a-”

“I’m sure Chris is very good. I’m sure he’d take very good care of you.”

Otabek winces.

“Please,” he says, “never use that combination of words ever again.”

Yuri presses on, undeterred.

“He must be very experienced,” he says, “I’m sure-”

“Yuri!” Otabek cuts in, “I’m not having sex with Chris!”

“Whatever,” Yuri snarls, and hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated! I live for virgin Otabek. Tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

They don’t talk for three days afterwards. Otabek’s phone rings at 2am on Friday. He isn’t really sleeping, just staring up at the stars on his ceiling, but he sees Yuri’s name on the caller ID and answers a little breathlessly.

“Hi honey,” Yuri says sarcastically, and Otabek feels a rush of warmth through his whole body. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

There’s a pause. When Yuri speaks he sounds almost hesitant. 

“Listen,” he says awkwardly, “I’m sorry about before. It’s just that Chris is so- and you’re so- and I just. I’m sorry, okay?”

Otabek rolls onto his side. 

“It’s okay,” he tells him.

Yuri pauses, 

“So we’re good?” he says, “I mean you’re not-”

“Yeah,” Otabek tells him, “Of course we are. How’s practice?”

Yuri sighs, 

“Oh,” he says, “You know. Victuri is fighting and Victor’s decided he can’t come choreograph my free program but other than that it’s fine. How are you?”

Otabek adjusts himself on the mattress. 

“I hurt myself yesterday,” he admits, “Nasty fall.”

“But you’re okay, right?” Yuri asks, “You’re going to compete?”

“They can try and stop me.”

“Good,” Yuri says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Otabek tells him.

Neither of them speak for a moment, then Yuri clears his throat.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, “If it were real, I mean, if we were real, would we only have to wait for sex or would we have to wait for other things to?”

“Like what?”

“Would you kiss me?”

The question is quick, almost furtive, and Otabek sucks in a breath and answers without thinking.

“I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Why not?” Yuri asks. Otabek stares at the ceiling. 

“It never felt right,” he says.

Yuri is quiet for a second. Then he says, 

“I wouldn’t mind you know, if we were really dating. You could just be you. You wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to.”

“What would we do instead?”

Yuri doesn’t answer right away, and for a second Otabek thinks he’s gone too far. Then Yuri says, 

“Whatever you want.”

“Could I touch you?”

Yuri’s breath hitches, 

“How?” 

“I’d like to hold your hand.”

“Oh,” Yuri sounds almost disappointed.

Otabek blushes, 

“I wouldn’t know how to do anything else,” he admits. 

Yuri speaks in a rush, 

“I could show you,” he says, “If it were real.”

“Yeah,” Otabek says, “If it were real.”

“If it were real,” Yuri says, “Would you wait for me?”

“Yes,” Otabek tells him. He very wisely does not say, “I already am.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is still so, so short. I'm pretty depressed and writing is hard. Thank you all for hanging in there.

The competition comes much too quickly. Or maybe it doesn’t come quickly at all. All Otabek knows is that one moment he’s picking himself off the ice for the 100th time, and the next he’s stepping off of a plane in China. Yuri meets him at the airport with a hand-lettered cardboard sign and an oddly hesitant smile. Victor, it transpires, has made it to Russia to choreograph Yuri’s program. He’s waiting at the terminal beside Yuri with an anxious look on his handsome face. Crowds of strangers sweep around them. Victor cranes his neck, and when he spots what he’s looking for his whole expression lights up.

The crowd parts dramatically like some goddamn movie scene, and then Yuuri is running towards them and throwing himself into Victor’s arms. Victor swoops him up, dips him down, and kisses him like his life depends on it. Yuri makes a squeaking sound and scoots away from them, moving closer to Otabek. Camera’s click all around them. 

Otabek stares out at the sea of flashing lights and does the only thing he can think of. He turns to Yuri, leans down, and brushes their lips together. It’s really quite a chaste kiss. Then Yuri shifts against him and brings his hands up into Otabek’s hair. Pulling him closer, he flicks his tongue out and bites down on Otabek’s lip. Otabek sighs into him, winding his hands around Yuri’s waist. Then someone whistles behind them and they split apart. Yuri ducks his head and Otabek palms at his neck and Victor and Yuuri titter and bump their shoulders together. When Yuri looks up through his lashes his cheeks are flushed and his breathing is a little heavy. Otabek studies him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Yuri says, “We nailed it.”

The ride to the hotel is a short one. Victor drives the rental car and he and Yuuri hold hands over the gear shift. Otabek stares at Yuri’s hands where they’re folded in his lap. He brings his fingers to his mouth and feels his swollen lips. When he looks again, Yuri is watching him. 

“Was that okay?” he asks, “I mean I know that was your first-” then his eyes flick up to the rearview mirror where Victor is watching both of them and he abruptly stops talking.

“Yeah,” Otabek says, “Like you said, we nailed it.”

Yuri flicks through a few photos on his phone, eyebrows knitting together in a delicate frown.

“Did you-” he begins, “I mean, was it-”

Otabek blushes, 

“You were very convincing,” he tells him.

There really is a press conference, and Otabek really does stand next to Yuri and when asked about his theme for the season he says “longing”. It’s as close to the truth as he can make it. When it’s finished, Yuri is looking at him a little funny, but all he says is, 

“Let’s go to the hotel.”

The hotel is vast and elegant and they’re stopped by at least a dozen fans before they even reach the desk. The receptionist peers at them from over her glasses.

“One room or two?” she asks, looking between them.

“Tw-” Otabek starts to say, but Yuri cuts him off. 

“One,” he says, with certainty. The receptionist blinks a little.

“Here are your keys,” she says, handing them over. Yuri takes both of them from her and grabs Otabek’s hand. 

“Come on,” he says imperiously, “Let’s settle in.”

Otabek swallows hard and lets himself be dragged away. One room, it transpires, means one bed. Otabek stares at it.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says.

Yuri flips his hair.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, “There’s room for both of us. I promise not to grope you in your sleep.”


	6. Chapter 6

Otabek doesn’t sleep much that night. Instead he stares up at the ceiling and listens to the sound of Yuri’s breathing. Around 4am Yuri rolls over and throws an arm across Otabek’s middle. Otabek goes very still, but Yuri doesn’t wake up. Instead, he nestles closer and lets out a giant sigh. Otabek sucks in a breath, Yuri’s hair tickling his cheek. The heat in the room is stifling and Otabek’s skin burns. Yuri smells hot and warm and faintly of mint. Otabek’s heart aches. The clock on the mantle reads 4:30. Otabek finally falls asleep. 

Otabek wakes up first. Yuri is still wrapped around him, head resting on his chest. He’s snoring slightly and Otabek finds it both terribly endearing and unbearably charming. Sunlight filters through the high glass windows, and the room is warm and peaceful. Then Yuri stirs and lifts his head. For a second he just blinks at Otabek, then he makes a strangled sort of sound and bolts out of the bed. 

“Morning,” Otabek says. 

Yuri doesn’t reply right away. Then he says, 

“Hi.”

Otabek rubs at his neck.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Yuri’s eyes narrow slightly, but all he says is, 

“Yes.” An awkward sort of silence descends between them. Otabek toes at his socks. Yuri doesn’t meet his eyes. At last he clears his throat and says, “I need to do my hair. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“Okay,” Otabek tells the closed bathroom door.

The rink is about 15 minutes from the hotel. They ride together in silence. Otabek looks out the window and Yuri scrolls through his phone. Halfway through the ride he pulls out his headphones and flips his phone around to show Otabek something on the screen. Otabek leans in closer. It’s a picture of them at the airport. Yuri has his arms around Otabek’s neck and his eyes closed. Otabek’s heart skips. Yuri flicks his gaze over to him.

“We look good,” he says, “there’s an article.”

Otabek swallows. Yuri is looking at him. 

“We can stop,” he says, “If you want.”

“No,” Otabek tells him, “It’s just, it’s a lot.”

The car pulls up to the curb outside of the rink. Yuri casts another glance at the photo. Then he slips his phone into his pocket and steps out onto the curb.

Practice goes okay, better than Otabek had expected. He only falls once and he comes off the ice sre in all the right places. Yuri meets him afterwards, still flushed from the chill of the rink and upon his insistence, they spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the downtown streets hand in hand. Yuuri has been spotted wearing Victor’s scarf, so Yuri makes Otabek win him no less than 15 teddy bears at the arcade in retaliation. He clutches them more triumphantly than he did his Grand Prix gold medal. 

They return to the hotel just as the sun is setting. Yuri stops at the door to sign several autographs and Otabek hangs back and watches the easy he handles the fans. 

“You were good with them,” he tells Yuri as they make their way through the door. Yuri flicks his hair, 

“It’s just work,” he says dismissively.

The hotel lobby is packed and swarming with skaters. Phichet waves at them from the front, and JJ ignores everyone in favor of singing along to his own theme song. Chris leans suggestively against the bar. He waves demurely when he sees them. Yuri stalks straight towards him. 

“You,” he snaps, “the next time you proposition my boyfriend I’ll kill you.”

“Well well,” Chris drawls, “The kitten has claws. I could proposition you both if you’d rather.”

Yuri growls. Otabek puts a hand on his back. 

“He’s 16 Chris.”

Chris only smirks.

“Come to my room tonight,” he says, “I’ll make it up to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! I love comments and feedback! Next chapter longer. I promise. (Also I'm happier this time too).


	7. Chapter 7

Otabek isn’t really sure why, but they turn up at Chris’s door at 9:00pm that night. Yuri has his hair up and is wearing a pair of leather pants that are so tight Otabek can’t meet his eyes. Chris positively beams when he opens the door.

“Well,” he says, “There you are! We’ve been waiting.” Chris opens the door wider, revealing array of skaters lounging on the bed. There’s a collection of half-empty bottles lining the dresser. Chris waves a hand delightedly towards them, “We’re playing party games,” he announces, “You missed truth or dare. I won. Here-” he takes a step towards the dresser, neatly pouring them each a shot, “Catch up.”

“I don’t drink,” Otabek protests. Yuri takes both his shot and then Otabek’s and glares around the room as if daring anyone to say something. Yuuri frowns. Victor raises an eyebrow. Chris pouts. 

“Can’t you make an exception?”

Otabek starts to say something else, but then he looks over at Yuri and gives up.

“Oh,” he says, “Fine.” Chris passes him another shot and Otabek takes it and tosses it back. The alcohol stings his throat and his eyes water. “Christ,” he manages. 

Chris beams.

“Wonderful,” he says, “Now come help us choose a game.”

JJ smirks, 

“Seven minutes in heaven,” he suggests. 

Yuri shoots him a look. 

“How straight are you?”

JJ shrugs, 

“Ask me in a few drinks.”

Yuri flicks his hair out of his face.

“If you kiss me,” he says, “I’ll cut your tongue out.”

JJ holds up his hands, 

“Easy,” he says, “I didn’t mean you.”

Yuri scowls. Lounging on the bed, Phichet raises his head.

“How about never have I ever?”

Chris claps his hands, 

“Excellent,” he croons, “Come sit.”

The skaters on the bed scoot over and Otabek settles himself down. For a heart-stopping moment, he thinks that Yuri might actually sit on his lap, but he just throws another distasteful look at Chris and plops down on the bed beside Otabek. Their arms press together. Yuuri wriggles in beside them and Victor slots himself in behind Yuuri. Chris throws himself dramatically down across the pillows. 

“Someone get the booze,” he commands imperiously. JJ sighs heavily, but he pushes himself off the bed and strides over to the dresser. Minami starts the game. 

“Right,” he says, “Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.”

Otabek drinks. So does Yuri. So do Phichet, JJ, Yuuri and Victor.

Chris looks a little offended, 

“Please,” he says, “as if a needle has ever touched this body.” but he takes a shot anyways and announces, “Show me what you got, boys! Atlin, you first.”

Yuri studies him. 

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” he says quietly. 

Otabek swallows, 

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, “I’d really rather not-”

Chris shoves a drink into his face. 

“Drink,” he says, “Then strip.”

Otabek glances at Yuri. Then he takes the shot, throws it back, and pulls up the hem of his shirt. Chris stares. Then he slowly claps his hands.

“Well,” he says, “That is magnificent. You’re a romantic, Altin, I’ll give you that.”

Otabek very much does not look at Yuri, who lets out a soft sort of sigh and runs his fingers over his skin.

“This is amazing,” he says, “When did you get this?”

Otabek blushes, 

“Last year,” he says, “After the Grand Prix Final.”

Yuri doesn’t say anything. Chris looks first at the tattoo of a tiger stretched along Otabek’s side and across his chest, then he looks at Yuri.

“You really haven’t seen this?” he asks. 

Yuri flicks his hair, 

“We’re taking it slow,” he says primly.

Chris raises an eyebrow, but he turns back to the rest of the circle. 

“Right,” he says, “Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” Phichet says cheerfully, turning around to show them the small fish on the back of his neck. Yuuri coos and Victor holds out his wrist where Yuuri’s name is written. Yuuri holds out his arm to show Victor’s name in turn. JJ strips off his shirt to show them all a large back piece that says: King JJ. Everyone looks at Yuri.

“Oh,” he says, “Fine.” Then he stands up and yanks his ridiculous pants down, displaying something stamped across his hip bone. It says: Gold. 

Victor raises an eyebrow, 

“What,” he deadpans, “Are you hoping someone will kiss it?”

Yuuri smacks him, 

“Victor!”

Victor looks at him imploringly.

“But it’s our thing!”

Otabek looks at Yuri, 

“You’re 16,” he says, “How did you even get that?”

Yuri smirks, 

“I asked very nicely,” he says. 

JJ rolls his eyes.

“Enough!” he says, “Who’s next?”

“Me,” says Phichet, “Never have I ever been arrested.”

JJ drinks. So do Victor and Yuuri.

“Disturbance of the piece,” says JJ. 

Yuuri blushes, 

“Public indecency.” 

Victor only smiles. 

The game continues. The questions range from ridiculous: Never have I ever worn women’s underwear (Victor, Chris, and JJ), to depressing: Never have I ever cried during a competition (Yuri, Phichet and Minami) to downright risque: Never have I ever performed head in a moving car (Yuuri, Chris and Victor). The alcohol goes straight to Otabek’s head. Yuri drinks more than he expects him to.

“Okay,” Chris slurs, after an hour, “Never have I ever been in love.” 

The room goes a little quiet. Victor and Yuuri drink immediately. Then JJ. Then Yuri. Then finally Otabek. He takes his shot too quickly and chokes on the alcohol. Yuri rubs his back a little absently. His fingers linger.

“Alright alright,” Phichet announces, “Never have I ever lost my virginity.”

Everyone in the room drinks. Everyone except Otabek. Chris stares at him incredulously. 

“Seriously?!” he demands, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Otabek looks around a little helplessly. Victor and Yuuri look a little cowed. Yuri is glaring daggers at Chris. 

“I think,” he says icily, “That that is really none of your business.”

Chris stares at him.

“But just look at him,” he breathes, “This can’t be happening. This must be some kind of joke.”

Otabek feels Yuri’s fingers tighten on his back. He clears his throat.

“It isn’t a joke,” he says, “I’ve never done it. Not once.”

Chris is regarding him with a look that’s almost awed. 

“You really mean it?” he says, “You’re actually waiting for him?”

And Otabek is drunk and he’s tired and Yuri’s hand is still on his back so he just smiles and says, 

“I actually am.”

Chris’s eyes narrow.

“Since when?” he demands, “You only met last year!”

Otabek pours himself another shot. He doesn’t meet Yuri’s eyes. 

“There was a dance class when we were kids- well, I was 13 but yeah. Since then.”

Chris scoffs, 

“Impossible,” he pronounces, turning on Yuri, “What about you Plisetsky? Who did you-”

“That,” Yuri says quietly, “Is also none of your business.”

Chris looks at Otabek, 

“It doesn’t bother you?” he asks.

Otabek stills. He doesn’t look at Yuri. 

“Should it?”

Chris huffs, 

“Well,” he says, “It would bother me.”

“Chris,” Yuri says, very slowly, “Just so we’re clear, I will never, ever fuck you. Not now. Not when I’m 18. Not ever.”

Chris scoffs, 

“Please,” he says, “You’re a child. And you’re awful. I would never.”

Yuri glares some more.

“I’m not a child,” he says. 

Chris rolls his eyes.

“You try so hard,” he says, “And you act so tough, but here you are young and dumb and in love and you’ve barely even held his hand. It’s adorable.”

Otabek waits for Yuri to respond, but when he finally looks his way, Yuri is blushing furiously down at his drink. Otabek takes it gingerly out of his hands. 

“Come on,” he says, “Let’s go to bed.”

Chris raises an eyebrow, but Yuuri shoves his foot into his shoulder.

“Shut up, Chris,” he says easily, “Have a good night you two.”

Victor waves. Phichet blows a drunken kiss. Otabek pushes himself up. He sways a little. Yuri stares helplessly up at him. So Otabek reaches out and pulls him off the bed. Yuri sways a little too, so Otabek wraps an arm around his waist and leads them both towards the door. He’s a little unsteady on his feet, but Yuri’s weight is solid at his side and they make it to their room with minimal casualties. Otabek opens the door and switches on the lights and Yuri growns and smacks it off. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he says. 

Otabek steadies him, 

“I’ll hold your hair if you throw up,” he says, “Come lie down.”

Yuri growns again, but he shuffles towards the bed and plops down on the comforter. Otabek waits for him to get changed, but he just leans back against the headoard and smacks his head against the wall. Otabek thinks about helping him undress. The thought makes him feel vaguely sick. His head spins. He settles on stripping off his shirt and settles under the covers. Yuri makes a pathetic sound and curls up into him. His fingers come up to trace the line of Otabek’s tattoo.

When he speaks, his voice is quiet.

“Did you really get this after the Final?” he asks. 

Otabek shivers. 

“You taught me a lot,” he says, “I wanted to remember.”

“I’m right here,” Yuri says, “Why get a tattoo?”

Otabek stares at the ceiling. 

“You’re right here now,” he says, “Sometimes you’re very far away.”

“So you got a tattoo?”

“I got a tattoo.”

Yuri is quiet for a moment, then he says, 

“Was it true what you said, about knowing at 13?”

Otabek shrugs, 

“I was a kid,” he says, “I hardly knew what sex was.”

Yuri shoves him, 

“You still don’t know what sex is,” he points out, “Answer the question.” 

Otabek runs his tongue across his teeth.

“It was when we met,” he says, “I figured it was believable.”

Yuri doesn’t speak for moment.

“Right,” he says, “Believable.”

The ceiling fan whirs above the. Otabek feels sweat prickle across his skin. The sounds of the city filter in through the open window. Finally, Otabek asks, 

“When did it happen?”

Yuri doesn’t answer at first, and for a second Otabek thinks that he’s fallen asleep. Then he sighs and says, 

“A couple of months ago. I was at a party. There was a guy.”

“A guy?”

“No one you know. Anyways, we danced, we snuck off to a bathroom. That was that.” 

He sounds almost clinical about it. 

Otabek looks at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuri shrugs again, 

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he says.

They’re quiet again. Then Otabek asks, 

“How was it?”

“Sex or the party?”

Otabek shoves him, 

“Sex.”

“Fine,” Yuri says, “Good. He talked to me during it. It was all terribly risque.”

“Oh,” Otabek says. He feels rather small. 

Yuri studies him. 

“Would you talk to me? If we were to…”

Otabek swallows, 

“I’m not sure what I’d do,” he says. 

“Well,” Yuri says, “Think about it. You’ve got time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for being so sweet to me! Tell me what you think <3 <3 <3


	8. Chapter 8

Otabek spends the next day in a hung-over haze. Yuri is gone by the time he wakes up, and he wanders around the hotel until Chris finds him, pushes a cup of coffee into his hands and makes him sit down. 

“I can’t find Yuri,” Otabek says, then he winces. 

Chris pats his knee.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “He’ll turn up. He is absolutely, completely crazy about you, you know.”

Otabek drops his head into his hands, 

“If you say so,” he groans.

Chris gives his knee a squeeze. 

“I do,” he says, “You’ll see.”

Practice that day is hell. Otabek’s coach takes one look at him when he gets to the rink and makes him run suicides until he throws up in a trash can and thankfully not on the ice. Then he makes him go over his jumps until Otabek has lost count before releasing him into the sunshine to think about his choices.

A thick sheen of tension hangs over the hotel. Most of the skaters are still at practice, and those that remain don’t speak to each other. Otabek sees Phichet in the lobby. Phichet waves forlornly. He looks a little green. Victor and Yuuri have their heads bent together as they go over Yuuri’s routine in hushed, furtive voices. The competition looms over all of them. 

Yuri reappears after the sun has already set, looking tired and flushed still in his work out clothes. They get undressed together, slow in the stifling heat of the hotel room. Otabek undos Yuri’s shoes for him, and Yuri hisses and helps peel off Otabek’s jacket, and they both climb into bed, blinking at each other in the gathering darkness. The night is hushed and soft around them, and Otabek reaches out and takes Yuri’s hand. Yuri gazes solemnly at him. They both fall asleep.

The next day, Otabek skates a flawless free program. Yuri touches down on his quad toe loop and falls during his triple axel. Otabek meets him in the kiss and cry. 

“What the hell was that?” he asks. Yuri kisses him. Then he does, in fact, cry. The scores come up. They aren’t good. “It’s okay,” Otabek tells him, “There’s always a chance that someone else will fall.”

They don’t. The competition ends, the last skater comes off the ice, and Yuri comes in absolutely, relentlessly, completely, bottom of the pyramid, dead last. It takes Otabek a moment to realize that this means he won’t be continuing in the competition. 

Yuri is inconsolable. He cries through a line of autographs, and all the way to the hotel. When they get there, he throws himself down on the bed and screams into the pillow for a solid five minutes. Then he sits up, scrolls through his phone, and bursts into a fresh round of sobs. Otabek gingerly takes the phone away from him. The screen displays one of what he knows are dozens of articles speculating on why last year’s Grand Prix gold medalist lost during the first round of the competition. This one wonders if Otabek is unfaithful. It makes a knot twist in his stomach, and he sits down on the bed and runs a hand through Yuri’s hair. 

“Hey,” he says, “I’m right here. Who cares what the internet thinks?”

Yuri turns on him. 

“It isn’t just the internet!” he wails, “It’s everyone and I just-” and then he shoves his face back into the pillow and screams some more. 

He pulls his head back a minute later, and Otabek is struck by how relentlessly 16 he looks. He reaches out and strokes some of Yuri’s hair out of his face. Yuri flushes and looks away and says, 

“You don’t have to be here for this.”

It takes Otabek a little off guard.

“What?” he says, “Of course I- I’m not going to leave you, Yuri.”

Yuri sniffs and rubs snot onto the sleeve of his $5,000 costume. It is unbearably charming. Otabek gets him a tissue anyways. Yuri takes it and blows his nose loudly. Then he tosses it onto the floor, falls back onto the bed, throws an arm over his face and lets out a giant sigh.

“Fuck.”

Otabek sits carefully beside him.

“Yuri,” he says softly, “What happened?”

Yuri doesn’t answer right away. Then he says, 

“Chris.”

Otabek blinks at him. 

“What?”

Yuri shifts. 

“He found out,” he says, “Or he figured it out or he guessed that we’re- that you and I- he knows we’re not really together.”

“Oh.”

Yuri takes a slow breath.

“He came to see me,” he says, “Before the competition. Told me not to fuck this up and Christ,” he pulls his arm away from his face and looks directly at Otabek, “I feel like I’m really fucking this up.”

Otabek stills, 

“What do you mean?”

Yuri’s gaze goes to the ceiling.

“I meant to do this right,” he says, “I meant to ask you for real and instead I just dragged you into this and now everyone thinks we’re together and it’s just- it’s a mess and I’m sorry.”

“Yuri-”

“No it was stupid. I had it all planned out, but I’m a fucking coward-”

“Yuri-”

“And now I’m a fucking loser and-”

“Yuri!”

“It isn’t fair to you, just go.”

Otabek takes a deep breath.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” he says, “I’ve been in love with you since I was 13 years old.”

Yuri stares at him.

“What?”

He’s still lying on the bed, so Otabek grabs him by the front of his ridiculous costume and kisses him. This time there are no people, no fans or cameras, and Otabek brings his hand up to Yuri’s face and runs his thumb over his jaw. When he pulls away, Yuri has his eyes closed.

“Shit,” he says.

“Romantic,” Otabek tells him, and lets go of his costume so that Yuri falls back onto the bed. Yuri just grins up at him and pulls him down too. They kiss slowly as the sun sets. Finally, Yuri pulls away and rests his head on Otabek’s shoulder. 

“So,” he says, “Moscow.”

Otabek looks at him.

“What?”

Yuri pushes his hair out of his face.

“Well," he says, "I’m coming with you, obviously." 

"You are?" 

"Of course," Yuri tells him, "we’ll just go as far as your season takes us, then we’ll figure something out.”

Otabek kisses his forehead.

“Yuri,” he says. 

“What?”

“Date me.”

Yuri laces their fingers together.

“I’ll think about it,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's an epilogue.


	9. Epilouge

Yuri shows up at the Grand Prix Final wearing a Team Atlin crop top and very little else. 

“Uh,” Otabek says, “Hi.”

Yuri flips his hair, 

“You like it?” He says, “I made it myself.”

Otabek stares at him, 

“I can see that.”

Someone clears their throat behind them and they turn to see Chris standing with his hands on his hips, wearing the tightest costume Otabek has ever seen.

“Well well,” he drawls, “Look who turned up.”

Otabek sighs, 

“Shut up Chris.”

Chris tosses his head, 

“No,” he says, “I’m glad to see you both together. I just didn’t think I’d see so much of you.”

Yuri shrugs,

“What?” he says, “It’s hot. I’m hot. I figured what the hell.”

Chris taps his lips, 

“Aren’t you a little young for-”

Yuri lunges at Chris and Otabek grabs him and hauls him back and the resulting picture gets posted on no less than 12 news sites. Chris tugs the collar of his costume a little straighter.

“You boys have fun!” he calls, and swans away.

Otabek rubs at his neck. 

“Well,” he says, “He’s still awful.”

Yuri scowls, 

“You’re awful,” he says “I can’t believe you left me at the hotel.”

Otabek shrugs, 

“I had practice,” he says, “And it would have ruined the surprise.”

“True,” Yuri tells him, winding a lock of hair around his finger, “I don’t know how you keep your hands off me.”

Otabek blushes, 

“I’m working on it.”

Yuri smirks, 

“Not too hard I hope.”

The crowd shifts behind them. Someone jostles Yuri and he rocks forward anf puts a hand on Otabek’s chest. Otabek’s blush deepens. 

“Yuri Plisetsky!” A familiar voice shrieks, “What are you wearing?!” and they turn to see Yuuri standing beside a scandalized Victor. 

“Sorry,” Yuri tells them, “He didn’t get much sleep. You look nice Yuri.”

Yuri scowls, 

“I’m burning these clothes.”

Yuuri goes first in the competition, Otabek goes last, and Victor goes somewhere in the middle. Phichet falls once, Minami falls twice, and JJ starts to cry halfway through his program but still manages to finish. Chris winks at the judges and Yuri tackles Victor onto the ice as the crowd whoops. Not to be outdone, Yuri presses Otabek back against the rink’s retaining wall and gives him a hickey so massive that Victor spots it from ten yards away, turns white, and breaks into sobs.

“But they’re like our children!” he wails, “And they’re growing up so fast!”

Yuri pets his hair consolingly, 

“They’re not our children,” he says, “And you’re not that old.”

Otabek blushes. Yuri looks rather smug. Yuuri shoots them both a placating glance. 

“Maybe do that somewhere else?” he says. Yuri sticks out his tongue. 

Otabek doesn’t have a chance at taking gold, not with Yuuri and Victor both competing, but he takes bronze and the look Yuri gives him is worth all the medals in the world. The banquet goes by in a blur. Yuri and Victor make a show of kissing each other’s medals. Otabek takes his off and drapes it around Yuri’s neck.

“Please,” Yuri scoffs, “As if I’d ever take bronze.” 

But he keeps it on anyways and lets Otabek tug him in by it and kiss him soundly before dragging him off to the dancefloor. Yuri makes Victor cry again with some truly obscene dance moves, so Otabek pulls him off the floor into a quiet corner of the room where they drink champagne and people watch until Chris approaches them.

“Congratulations,” he tells Otabek, and only sounds a little constipated. 

“Thanks Chris,” Otabek says.

Chris smirks,

“And good job on the medal too.” It makes Otabek smile. Chris gives his cheek a drunken pat. “I need to borrow your better half,” he says, “amuse yourself.”

Otabek shoots Yuri a look, but Yuri just shrugs and lets himself be swept away. Otabek watches the party. He can see Yuri and Chris talking in a corner. Chris has his hand on Yuri’s shoulder, and Yuri is looking at him with interest instead of a scowl. Otabek watches them talk for a moment. Then someone takes the seat beside him, and he looks around to find Victor staring at him with intent. 

“Atlin,” he says, with drunken elegance, “We need to talk.”

Otabek sighs, 

“Victor,” he says, “For the last time, I’m not fucking Yuri. I promise.”

Victor blinks owlishly at him.

“All I’m saying,” he says gravely, “Is that victory has a way of going to one's head.”

Otabek stares at him.

“This is because you took silver,” he says, “Isn’t it?”

Victor shrugs, 

“Yuuri is very… enthusiastic when he wins.”

Otabek downs the rest of his champagne.

“Gross.”

Victor smirks, then his gaze grows serious.

“He’s so young,” he says mournfully, “You’re both so young.” 

“Okay,” Otabek says, reaching for Victor’s glass. 

Victor jerks it away from him. 

“Youth,” he sighs, “Is such a blessing. Make sure you don’t waste it by making mistakes.”

“Sleeping with Yuri wouldn’t be a mistake,” Otabek tells him, “Not that I’m planning on doing that anytime soon.”

Victor sighs, 

“Love makes us do strange things,” he says dreamily. 

“Okay,” Otabek tells him, “I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

“Please,” Yuuri announces, “He hasn’t even started taking off his clothes.”

Otabek looks up, 

“Hi Yuuri,” he says, “Congradulations on the gold.”

Yuuri beams.

“Thanks,” he says, “Victor does this amazing thing with his tongue where-”

“Okay!” Otabek says, “Why don’t you two go dance? Or do you need to keep lecturing me on the merits of celibacy?”

Victor looks like he wants to say something else, but Yuuri takes him by the hand and pulls him up.

“C’mon,” he says, “They’re playing our song!” and drags him away to the tune of Beyonce’s Drunk In Love. 

“What was that?” Yuri asks.

Otabek looks up at him.

“Nothing,” he says, “Victor was just making sure I’m not going to let the win go to my head and fuck you senseless.”

Yuri shivers.

“Well,” he says, “I should be so lucky.”

Otabek looks away, 

“What if I never…” he begins. 

Yuri takes his hand. 

“C’mon,” he says gently, “let’s get out of here.”

Otabek says his goodbyes, Yuri steals a bottle of champagne, and they take a taxi back to the hotel. The night is hot, so they strip down to their underwear and go and sit on the balcony, bathed in the glow of the city lights and the babble of passing cars. Yuri pops the cork on the champagne and drinks straight from the bottle. He passes it to Otabek and leans back against the concrete. He’s still wearing Otabek’s medal and Otabek watches the way his chest rises and falls beneath it. 

“Come here,” Yuri says, and Otabek lies down beside him and lets Yuri nuzzle into his neck. 

“You won!” He whispers.

Otabek smiles and strokes his hair. 

“I really did,” he says, savoring the night and the words and Yuri’s weight on his shoulder. Yuri is quiet for a moment, then he turns and bites contemplatively at Otabek’s collar bone, before pulling away. Otabek looks a little dazed. “What was that for?”

“Sorry,” Yuri says, not sounding it at all, “Chris bet me $50 I wouldn’t do that.”

“And you couldn’t lie to him?”

Yuri shrugs,

“I was curious,” he says, “You taste like victory.”

They’re quiet again. The stars spin overhead.

“Yuri,” Otabek says slowly, “About what Victor said, what if I- I mean, what if we never-”

Yuri kisses his shoulder.

“Don't worry about it,” he says softly, “I won’t love you any less.”

“Yuri?”

“What?”

“Marry me.”

**Author's Note:**

> First Yuri On Ice fic. Fighting with writer's block. Comments and kudos appreciated.


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